


Curatives

by pastelwarbler



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen, a what-if scenario, especially in fantasy settings, i just really love medicine and what the human body can handle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 17:53:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14117742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastelwarbler/pseuds/pastelwarbler
Summary: Magic to cure wounds always has consequences. For some, the price is high.





	1. The Chocobros

**Author's Note:**

> So curatives are personally something very interesting to me in the world of Final Fantasy. Like, there’s magic in the world and potions to heal you, but what happens when you take a ton like the chocobros? The human body is amazing in how it can heal itself, but it can only do so much. So, this is “how do the chocobros deal with having to taken so many potions?” kind of scenario.
> 
> This is an upload from my tumblr blog! 
> 
> Feel free to comment, it would be greatly appreciated!

Mentally,  ** _Gladio_**  is as strong as the steel he wields in battles. Unwavering loyalty in the king he has sworn to protect and trust in the friends he fights alongside. Above all, a shield cannot fall in battle. It is all too easy to lose count of the number of curatives taken in a fight. The number doesn’t matter, as long as his duty if fulfilled. But, a human body can only take so much before it fails. Scar tissue rips open, blood running down his chest like war paint. Fresh wounds stay open, body at its limit with how quickly it can repair itself. And so, it is with a bitter heart that the king’s shield must admit that curatives alone cannot always help. Instead, he must be taken care of- fresh stitches, bandages, and medication to allow the slow process of healing.

\---

For  _ **Noctis**_ , it is the taste that makes him sick. Potions, elixirs, Maiden’s kiss- any thought of them outside of battle causes his stomach to churn. In the beginning of the journey to Altissa, he could down a dozen of the various cocktails without issue. Now? Now he braces for the sickly liquid he has to take to keep him in the fight. It coats his tongue and the burns his nose with its smell. He finds himself unable to eat immediately after fighting because everything ends up tasting exactly like curatives. Ignis has begun to notice that Noctis avoids certain foods whose tastes remind him of them. Of course, the wear on his body leaves Noctis exhausted- but when isn’t he tired?

\---

He doesn’t swing a blade, but  ** _Prompto_**  still feels the physical strain that curatives place on his body. It leaves him drained and short of breath. Bent over and resting his hands on his knees, he gasps for air. His heart hammers in his ears, drowning out the exclamations of victory his friends give after a particularly drawn out battle. He tries to act casual to play off any worries his friends may have while he fights the urge to claw at his throat. There’s nothing wrapped around his neck but there has to be a reason why he ends up wheezing. When it passes, he’s almost more thankful to be over the fit than to have survived the fight. 

\---

It’d be polite not to ask  ** _Ignis_**  to cook something after a fight. The strategist is busy enough keeping an eye on his companions during battle, tossing and administering curatives that it leaves little time to think of the consequences. The liquids splash and soak into his gloves and stains his skin. Dealing out healing for four people leaves frightening side effects for someone who prides themselves in their hands. It doesn’t take long before he feels his palms burn, skin revealing a frightening pattern of blistering red and bone white splotching. Fingertips go numb, pain running up his arms. He can hardly grip his weapons, let alone a kitchen knife to cook. No one notices that night when his food presentation is subpar- or, at the very least, no one says anything to upset him.


	2. Niflheim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just focusing on the Niflheim characters of ffxv. Enjoy!

His features betray little in day to day tasks, but it is possible to see what Supreme Commander **Ravus** thinks when he briskly walks past the infirmary: disgust. Few remember that the last time he willingly entered the infirmary was on a stretcher, stomach full of charcoal to undo effects of his own doing. To be fair, the mental and physical pain brought on by wearing the ring of Lucii drove him to drink enough curatives for at least four men while being transported out of Insomnia for emergency treatment. When he awoke in imperial care, he learned the full extent of the damage both events had caused from the physician on call. A prosthetic arm due to burns that reached into muscle tissue and a strict diet to prevent irritation to his scarred esophagus and stomach from his overdose. Medical intervention had prevented organ damage, but a strict recommendation to avoid curatives was given. It was something the Ravus religiously followed- organ failure would force him to relinquish his power.

\---

When you’ve lived as long as **Ardyn** has, it’s only natural to pick up a few tricks along the way. How to tell if a vendor is watering down curatives is one he especially prides himself for. It’s as much of an art as it is a science for him. Of course, as easy as it is to water down curatives, it's just as easy to make them concentrated. A thick syrup when boiled down just right, few people would dare test their luck against such a disgusting mixture. However, the chancellor happily keeps two metal flasks of it on his person at all times. He finds that it’s an easy fix for his darker moods, such as when he hasn’t had half a flask before it strikes noon. Not to mention that it’s just the right pick-me-up for the frequent headaches that become too much to bare. Above all, it leaves him positively giddy, especially when he downs both flasks before Noctis has a chance to enter the throne room.


End file.
